With Operation Sindoor, even after the Parliament debate, questions linger

Indian Express

2 days ago

In the aftermath of the Pahalgam terror attack, Operation Sindoor was executed with admirable precision and purpose. The nation witnessed the readiness of our armed forces, the speed of response, and the confidence with which cross-border strikes were conducted. These are not small achievements. They reflect an India that no longer hesitates to act in defence of its people and territory.
Yet, amid the expressions of solidarity and triumph, a set of questions still lingers — questions that were not answered in Parliament, nor addressed in the official statements that followed. As someone who has served within the machinery of the Indian state, I believe these questions deserve not only to be asked, but to be sustained in the national memory. For, a nation's strength is not merely defined by its ability to retaliate, but by its commitment to learning from what precedes the need for retaliation.
The first duty of the state is to prevent. That a group of terrorists could infiltrate and carry out a devastating attack in one of Kashmir's most surveilled and strategically vital regions signals a breach not only of physical security, but of institutional coordination.
Where was the lapse? Was it a failure of intelligence collection, analysis, or dissemination? Were inter-agency protocols followed — or bypassed? What assessment has been made of the local support structures that enabled such movement? These are not peripheral queries. They go to the core of whether our deterrence posture is genuinely effective or primarily reactive.
The recent parliamentary debate was a welcome recognition that national security cannot be left to press briefings alone. But even as it brought key voices to the fore, the tenor of the conversation — on both sides — often veered toward performance rather than policy.
The Prime Minister was emphatic in defending the government's response and underlined the support India received globally. Yet, one sensed a reluctance to dwell on the preceding failures that made a response necessary in the first place. That is the space Parliament is meant to occupy — not to second-guess real-time decisions, but to seek clarity about the frameworks that produced those decisions.
One is reminded that in parliamentary democracies, asking difficult questions is not defiance; it is duty. The absence of candour in response to such questions may win applause in the moment, but it leaves our systems unexamined and untested.
Among the more troubling loose ends is the claim by US President Donald Trump that he played a role in mediating a ceasefire during the standoff. While such assertions may not always be grounded in precise fact, the absence of a firm, official rebuttal has only allowed ambiguity to grow.
India has long prided itself on strategic autonomy. Our ability to act — and be seen to act — without external pressure is fundamental to the credibility of our security doctrine. To leave that credibility open to reinterpretation is to invite misperception not only among adversaries but also among allies.
Silence, in such cases, is not strategic restraint. It can be construed as tacit consent — or worse, uncertainty.
India's deterrence posture has evolved in practice, but it remains largely undefined in principle. Repeatedly, we have responded forcefully to provocations — from Uri to Balakot to Pahalgam — but the absence of a clear, publicly articulated doctrine invites strategic ambiguity. At some stage, ambiguity begins to undercut deterrence.
Do we have a threshold doctrine that governs responses? What are the escalatory contours we are prepared to manage? How do we plan for hybrid threats that combine kinetic violence with digital disruption? These questions merit a formal treatment — not in partisan debate, but through institutional policy articulation.
There is a growing tendency in our political culture to view national security through a personal lens: The Prime Minister's resolve, the Opposition's tone, the media's narrative. But true national security lies beyond personalities. It lies in systems that function regardless of who is in office, in doctrines that endure, and in institutions that are empowered to question, correct, and reform.
To that end, it is concerning that after such a significant breach and the massive deployment of military assets, we have not heard of any institutional accountability being established, any resignations considered, or any operational audits made public. Transparency in such cases is not a sign of weakness; it is the very basis of democratic strength.
Operation Sindoor may stand as an example of India's military responsiveness. But it should also serve as a reminder that vigilance, not retaliation, is the first responsibility of the state. When Parliament gathers, when the public listens, and when leaders speak, the goal must not only be to project unity, but to preserve credibility.
In the long run, India's greatest strength will not lie in its ability to respond — but in its ability to anticipate, to prepare, and to self-correct without waiting for crisis.
And perhaps, most importantly, we must never lose sight of the cost of our lapses. The train of innocent lives lost — stretching back from the 1993 Mumbai serial blasts, through the horror of 26/11, to countless attacks in Kashmir, Delhi, and elsewhere — remains an open wound on the national conscience. Each act of terror that slips through the net of prevention leaves behind not just grief but a moral reckoning.
The lives lost in Pahalgam are not isolated tragedies. They join the unbroken line of innocents who have paid with their lives for our failures of anticipation. We must allow that reality to haunt us — not in despair, but as a driving force for better vigilance, stronger systems, and an uncompromising pursuit of security.
The writer is a former foreign secretary